tead, for not only his actions, but his words had told her
so. A little more craft and plotting, therefore--a little further
display of innocent and lowly meekness and timid obedience--a few more
well-considered efforts to widen the conjugal breach--a week or two more
persistent exercise of those fascinations which men were so feeble to
resist--jealousy, recrimination, quarrels, and a divorce--and the whole
thing might be accomplished. In those days of laxity, divorce was an
easy matter. In this case there was no family influence upon the part of
the wife to be set up in opposition--but merely an old centurion,
ignorant and powerless. A few writings, for form's sake--and the day
that sent the weeping wife from the door might install the manumitted
and triumphant slave in her place.

All aglow with the ravishing prospect--her eager hopes converting the
possible into the probable, and again, by a rapid change, the probable
into the certain, the Greek stood spurning the needle work at her feet.
Then glancing around, the whim seized upon her to assume, for a moment
in advance, her coming stately dignity. At the side of the room, upon a
slightly elevated platform, was a crimson lounge--AEnone's especial and
proper seat. Over one arm of this lounge hung, in loose folds, a robe
of purple velvet, with an embroidered fringe of pearls--a kind of cloak
of state, usually worn by her upon the reception of ceremonious visits.
To this lounge Leta strode, threw herself upon it, drew the velvet
garment over her shoulders, so that the long folds fell down gracefully
and swept the marble pavement at her feet, and there, half sitting, half
reclining, assumed an attitude of courtly dignity, as though mistress of
the palace.

And it must be confessed that she well suited the place. With her lithe,
graceful figure thrown into a position in which the gentle languor of
unembarrassed leisure was mingled with the dignity of queenly
state--with her burning eyes so tempered in their brilliancy that they
seemed ready at the same instant to bid defiance to impertinent
intrusion, and to bestow gracious condescension upon suppliant
timidity--with every feature glowing with that proper pride which is not
arrogance, and that proper kindliness which is not humility--there was
probably in all Rome no noble matron who could as well adorn her chair
of ceremony. Beside her, the true mistress of the place would have
appeared as a timid child dismayed with una